


Meeting Merope Gaunt-Riddle

by temptresslove



Series: Welcome to the Candy Store [11]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aristocrat Tom, CRACK CRACK CRACK UNTIL YOU CRUMBLE HOES, Complete Family, EVERYONES NOSY AF, F/M, Fun read, HARRY AND MEROPE MEET FOR THE FIRST TIME, ITS CRACK AGAIN, M/M, Multi, Socialite Harry, These two fuckers are dating and Tom didnt tell his parents, Veela Harry Potter, Veela Mates, everyones alive, guess what happens, light read, sksksksksk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23231197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/temptresslove/pseuds/temptresslove
Summary: Harry is summoned to the Riddle Manor by Merope Riddle herself after the Daily Prophet announces that Harry and Tom are dating.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Merope Gaunt & Harry Potter
Series: Welcome to the Candy Store [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1347778
Comments: 40
Kudos: 1041





	Meeting Merope Gaunt-Riddle

It is only a matter of time before Harry and Tom announce their engagement, Harry thinks as he looks at the Daily Prophet.

Well, Tom hasn’t really proposed yet but Harry was quite sure it was coming soon.

_Slytherin Heir and Potter Heir Dating!_ The headline reads. Harry smiles, feeling his heart flutter in his chest. They looked so good together. Tom’s charming aristocrat smirk, Harry’s shy debutante smile. They were perfect.

Everything was going so well too.

Harry was quite sure that no one and _nothing_ could get in the way of their relationship.

But that afternoon, a letter arrived for Harry

Harry recognizes the Gaunt family crest immediately.

He was being summoned to the Riddle Manor.

* * *

“Are you nervous?” Ginny asks as Harry packs his things for home.

“No.” Harry lies. Merope Gaunt-Riddle was a living legend. Her bloodline was the only line among the Founding Members of Hogwarts that can be traced back to Salazar Slytherin.

“She does have some prejudices against Gryffindors, you know.”

Harry knows. She was famous for it. “She still married a muggle.” 

“Ah, but he’s an exceptional muggle.” Ginny says repeating what they both hear from rumors. “She’d give him magic if she could.”

“Then she should know how it feels to be in love.”

* * *

“She was years ahead of us and she was so ugly back then.” Lily bites her lips and sighs dramatically like she’s not quite sure if she should say more. In the end, her love for gossip wins out. “She’s still ugly now.”

Harry smacks her in the arm. “Mom! That’s my future mother-in-law!”

“I know,” Lily nods sympathetically, placing a hand on her son’s shoulder in comfort. “Let’s just hope your children will get their looks from our side of the family.”

_“Mom!”_ Harry exclaims in disbelief, secretly enjoying his mother’s immaturity. “The Riddles are handsome too!”

“Yes,” Lily agrees, widening her eyes suggestively. “The Riddle _men_.”

“I—“ Harry smacks Lily again and they both laugh. 

Harry looks at his mother, demeanor suddenly serious. “Do you think Tom told her?”

“I don’t think he would do something like that without telling you, sweetheart.” Lily says worriedly.

“Do you think _I_ should tell her?” Harry asks, suddenly a child again.

“It’s not exactly something to be ashamed of, Harry.” Lily says consolingly. She never liked seeing Harry like this.

Harry doesn’t say anything. Just looks into the distance. There’s silence. Lily takes Harry’s hand to assure him. Harry speaks again. “What do you think of this dress?”

Harry was fitting a custom made dress. Lily had basically just grabbed him and apparated to Madam Malkin’s the moment Harry told her Merope wanted to see her.

Lily asks Harry to spin around as she looks at every detail. She looks at Harry in the eye, lifted her hands, and with a force she rarely showed, pulled on the dress’ neckline to reveal more of Harry’s chest than what was proper. “Let’s show that Gaunt bitch what we’re made of.”

* * *

Harry stands outside the Riddle Manor, smoothing his clothes for the nth time that night.

It was a dark mahogany dress matching the rouge on Harry’s lips. Lily brought out the subtle family heirlooms. They were small, but when they caught the light, they blinded you. That, with his black hair, and his green eyes—he looked striking.

“Good evening, Mister…?” An old respectable-looking man appears in the doorway. It’s their butler.

“Potter,” Harry says willing himself to calm down. “Harry Potter.”

“Ah, yes, very good, sir. Please come inside.”

“Thank you,” Harry says as he is welcomed into their drawing room.

“Please wait here for a moment.”

Harry looks around the manor. 

Well. 

It was no question that the Riddle family was wealthy. From what Harry knows, Tom’s father was an aristocrat in the muggle world, his line starting from the first king of England. 

Added to all that, was Tom’s mother, Merope Gaunt Riddle, a direct descendant of Salazaar Slytherin himself—heiress to generations of wealth and prestige.

The drawing room was an interesting mix of muggle and magic finery. There was a wireless telephone, a flat screen TV even, some famous paintings (which Harry knew were real), and some less obvious magical things like the fireplace for floo-ing. Harry imagined this was where Tom Sr.’s muggle business partners were welcomed.

The walls were a beautiful gray, the interior design was both modern and classic—a nod to their noble roots and a foot forward in the future.

There were also family pictures, Harry sees delightedly. There was one picture with Tom just a baby—

“Mr. Potter,” The butler calls. Harry jumps in surprise, silently hoping he didn’t look to snoopy. “Mistress Riddle is hoping you could join her in the dining room.”

Well, it was now or never.

* * *

Tom looks at his father who was trying hard not to look to nervous. He was speaking faster than normal, laughed louder than normal, and said “It’s a such a beautiful night out” even though it was very obvious that it was going to rain.

“Why don’t we come back tomorrow, father?” Tom suggests.

His father visibly swallows and laughs. “But don’t you want to see how the yacht business I named after you has flourished since you entered Hogwarts?”

“Yes,” Tom says carefully. “But it looks like it’s going to rain and we still have time tomorrow. My summer break is three months long, you know.” He says pointedly. It was rather odd that his father would want to do this now. Since it was his first day back from school. 

“But I’m so excited, son,” his father says sheepishly, a drop of sweat sliding down his forehead. Tom _swears_ he has never seen the man sweat before. “And we still have a lot of businesses and functions to attend to this summer. Your mother and I wanted you to actively take part in your inheritances. Balancing your muggle and wizarding responsibilities—“

“Father,” Tom says, suddenly losing his patience. “Why can’t we come back home now?”

“What?” Tom Sr. says starting to walk away from Tom and into the docks.

Tom walks briskly to catch up with him. He was using a handkerchief to dab his face.

“Father, we both know it’s not the warm tonight.” Tom says wondering why his father was acting this way. “What are you hiding?”

Tom Sr. laughs nervously. “Nothing! Why would you ask that?”

“Father,” Tom says seriously. “You know I promised never to use magic on you but if you don’t tell me what’s going on—“

“Fine, fine,” his father surrenders. “Your mother saw the morning papers.”

_And?_ Tom wanted to ask. What was so special about—His eyes widen. He stops walking. Oh. Oh _no_.

“Your mother wants to meet the boy you’re dating.”

_“What?”_ Tom asks barely concealing his anger, thunder illuminates their faces for a moment.

The rain has begun to pour.

* * *

Merope Gaunt-Riddle was looking at him with her dark blue eyes—cold and steady. The servants are lined behind her, quiet and looking straight ahead. Her dark blue dress was rich and thick; the jewels on her neck, ears, and hand shining quietly and proudly under the lights—a reminder of her wealth and influence; her lips red with rouge. 

But it was her magic. Her magic that screamed power, like her tall stature was just barely enough to contain it. Harry almost trembled.

So this is what it meant to be a Gaunt matriarch.

Harry gulps but he will not waver. He squares his shoulders back, tucks his hair behind his ear so that she would see his Potter heir ring.

“Good evening, Mrs. Riddle.” He says in clear, soft tones—letting his gentle upbringing speak for itself.

Merope slowly tilts her head at the side. “Mmm,” is all she says, flicking her hand to call a servant. She orders a command. The servant scurries away in haste.

Harry waits to be seated but it looks like an invitation wasn’t coming anytime soon. Merope is sitting at the long end of the dining table, about eight chairs away from where Harry was standing. She lifts a spoon into her mouth, taking her time to savor the food.

_“Well?”_ Merope demands. “Are we just going to sit here all day? Speak, child!”

“I was under the impression you were the one who wanted to talk to me, Mrs. Riddle.” Harry says innocently.

“Disrespectful, I see.” Harry pretends not to hear it and smiles his best smile.

“Harold, is it?” Merope asks looking like she didn’t really need Harry’s reply. “I’ll be frank with you. I don’t want to waste both our times. You're a _Gryffindor_."

Harry waits for her to continue but it seemed like she was done talking. Harry’s smile tightens. “I’m not sure what you’re implying, Mrs. Riddle.”

“Are stupid as well as deaf?” Merope says harshly, like a snake baring its fangs to attack. _“You are not fit for my son!”_

Harry wishes he could say, when he retells the story in the future, that sudden thunder that shook the house was purely for effect, but it was not.

“Bold of you to say that when you’re the one who married a muggle,” Harry says without thinking. “And for what? His looks?” Harry scoffs. “I might be a Gryffindor, Mrs. Riddle. But at least I am of pure magical blood.”

Harry was sure that if Merope was not as respected as she was in the wizarding community, she would have had already Avada Kedavra’d Harry out of existence.

“Why you _cheeky_ little—“

“And I’ll have you know that this Gryffindor,” Harry looks at Tom’s mother with a smirk, the marks of being spoiled since he was born suddenly very apparent to everyone in the room. Then, in a move no one in the room could have predicted, Harry suddenly switches to parseltongue. _“Can talk to snakes.”_ Harry finishes triumphantly.

Merope’s eyes widen. Harry could see the disbelief in her eyes. _Harry was lying._ He _should_ be lying. But he did speak parseltongue just now. But he was not a Slytherin. Harry almost smirks. Oh _now_ , I’ve got your attention. “You see, Mrs. Riddle,” Harry walk slowly, confidently closer to the Gaunt matriarch. “I am a Veela,” Harry says, a lethal grin at his face. Veelas were known to share some traits with their mates. “And your son?” He pauses for dramatic effect. “Your son is my _mate_.”

_“Mate?”_ His mother asks incredulously. “You? A _Veela_?” She laughs unbelievingly. “You’re not even blonde!”

“And you’re not beautiful enough to be a Slytherin descendant but here we are anyway,” Harry says levelly, his anger getting the better of him. The servants audibly gasp. Some cover their mouths in shock, and Merope, oh Merope was ready to _murder_ him.

“Is that why my son likes you, then?” Merope asks mockingly. “Not out of his own free will but because your Veela blood is calling to him?” She scoffs. “You are not so beautiful yourself, Mister Potter, despite your Veela blood.”

Harry grits his teeth together and tries his very best not to be the one to cast the first Unforgivable. 

Veelas were rather… discriminated against in the wizarding world—mostly for their sexual appetite. There were rumors that Veelas would lose their mind for sex… but that wasn’t exactly true. There was also the matter of having a mate. Some said that having mate was equal to not having free will—like everything you did would solely depend on what would satisfy your mate. That also wasn’t exactly true. Still. For a pureblood to be a Veela…

They both stare at each other—stubborn to the core, both unwilling to submit.

And then Merope laughs, laughs as if she can’t quite believe what is happening. Harry frowns. Was she crazy? Was the mother of the love of his love actually _crazy_?

“I see why Tom likes you,” Merope says gleefully, assessing Harry with her blue eyes suddenly filled with amusement. “Very well, then. I welcome you into the family.”

Harry gapes. That was it?

“Now tell me,” Merope flashes her teeth in a grin. “How exactly did Tom react when he found out he was bound to a mate?”

**Author's Note:**

> SURPRISE! I AM BACK EARLY. Hahahaha. I debated if I should add more Tomarry but nah, I just really wanted Harry and Merope to meet. Like that was it. That was the inspo for this. I did enjoy Meeting the Parents so much that I also wanted to explore Harry and Merope's relationship. I hope you had fun reading! I'll reply to your comments soon! Thank you for supporting me. I still see the regulars from my old stories commenting on my new fics guys UWU I love you all.
> 
> PS. This wasn't the new fic I was talking about. This is just a random sudden idea that popped into my head. Oh I do enjoy exploring the relationships that are affected by Tom and Harry being together.


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